


Not the Ham!

by ravyn_nevermore



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fun, Implied Smut, M/M, Multi, Poor Sam, Silly, Top!Castiel, bottom!Dean, human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravyn_nevermore/pseuds/ravyn_nevermore
Summary: Another half an hour passed and finally, Dean emerged, running in a panic toward the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. “Shit! ShitshitshitshitshitshitSHIT!”





	Not the Ham!

**Author's Note:**

> A fun, silly little one-shot I did for a friend. 
> 
>  
> 
> I know that "Novak" is the popular surname for Castiel and brothers, but if Chuck Shurley is god, I'd rather use that surname to keep Castiel and family differentiated from Jimmy Novak and family.

“Is he hot?”

“Ex _cuse_ me?!”

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sam scoffed, bitch face contorting into a judgmental scowl. “I just told you that I appreciate the invite to have Gabriel here for Easter dinner but that it would leave his brother alone on the holiday.”

“Yeah, and…?” Dean shrugged, taking a sip from his beer bottle.

“You asked if his brother’s hot! Doesn’t that seem a little insensitive to you?”

“Mm.. Not really. I didn’t say he could only come if he’s hot. But. You know. I’m in the market.” Dean leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up onto the table, taking another swig.

“Market?! I thought you’d given up on dating,” Sam accused.

Dean pulled a face. “I didn’t say which market. I’m always in the market for getting laid. So. You still haven’t answered my question: Is. Castiel. Hot?”

That left the younger Winchester quiet for a long moment. “He’s… well…” He thought carefully about Dean’s type otherwise there’d be hell to pay if Sam promised he was hot and didn’t deliver. “I mean.. He’s not blond. Dark hair. Blue eyes, though. And he’s… I dunno. Rugged, I guess? But not in like the farm way or the mechanic. In the military way. So… yeah. I mean… I think you’ll think he’s hot.”

Dean’s eyes lit up and he smirked. “Military, huh? Dominant. Say no more.” He let his chair fall back to the floor as he removed his feet from the table. “Bring them over at… let’s say… two? Dinner should be ready around three.”

Sam nodded, but looked slightly on the miserable side. There’s no way this could end well. He felt bad for Castiel.

* * *

 

The elder Winchester had had all week to fantasize about what this other Shurley brother might look like, but not even his wildest fantasies could prepare him for what was standing in his living room Easter Sunday. All of the air suddenly left his lungs. Green eyes wide, he gave Sam a look that said ‘ _Are you freaking kidding me?! Of course he’s hot!_ ”

Sam grimaced slightly. “Dean, you know Gabriel and this is his brother, Castiel. Castiel… my older brother Dean.”

The topaz-eyed stranger extended his hand and wrapped Dean’s in a tight grip. He had an intense gaze and Dean wasn’t sure whether he was intimidating him, counting his freckles, or mentally undressing him. Honestly, any of them would have worked for Dean. It was when he finally spoke in that gravelly voice that Dean nearly fainted. “Hello, Dean.”

_Oh fuck._ Dean’s knees were suddenly weak and heat shot through his core to the pit of his stomach. His mouth was dry, making him take far too long to form words. “Uhhhh--- Hey. Yes… Hi, Cas. Right. Nice to meet you.” He swallowed hard.

“Thank you for the invitation to dinner. It will be nice, I’m sure to dine with a smaller family that doesn’t--”

His words were cut off by the sound of Gabriel clearing his throat. “Uh… Cassy. Hands, maybe?”

In a way that was almost comical, both Dean and Castiel looked down where their hands were still joined from the handshake and pulled back as if they’d been burned, each of them turning bright red.

Dean shuffled his feet awkwardly. “So… Dinner’s got about an hour? You… wanna tour?”

Castiel took a deep breath. “Yes. That… seems an appropriate way to kill time. I’d like that.”

* * *

 

Sam should have known this would happen. The signs were there, but he chose to ignore it and hope for the best. An hour and a half after they left for the ‘tour’, neither Castiel nor Dean were seen. He could have interrupted them. He could have taken the ham out of the oven. Problem was… had he done that, Dean would have freaked out on him. There was really no winning. Besides, Sam had no way of telling whether the ham was done. Dean knew way more about cooking meat to perfection than his younger brother.

“Don’t worry,” Gabriel assured him. “Maybe he put it in late. It still smells fine.” Sam could only hope.

* * *

Another half an hour passed and finally, Dean emerged, running in a panic toward the kitchen wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. “Shit! _Shitshitshitshitshitshit **SHIT**_!”

Sam had to actually bite back a laugh at the comical scene as Castiel soon came down the hallway, fully dressed but lips swollen, neck tie crooked, and hair in complete disarray. There may have even been bruises on his neck, but it was difficult to tell.

Defeated, Dean came to the doorway of the kitchen. “Well. It’s too damn dry. So, uh… Who wants Easter pizza?”

Sam couldn’t hide his amusement. “I’ve always told you your ‘quickies’ need to be a little more… uh... quick.”


End file.
